


How The Mountie Got His Wolf.

by Ultra_chrome



Category: due South
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-09
Updated: 2006-11-09
Packaged: 2017-11-25 18:07:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ultra_chrome/pseuds/Ultra_chrome
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The title says it all. Right down to the homage to Rudyard Kipling. Written for the ds flashfiction genre redux challenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How The Mountie Got His Wolf.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://heartofdavid.livejournal.com/profile)[**heartofdavid**](http://heartofdavid.livejournal.com/) for a fast beta and entertaining me at the same time. And to [](http://lucifercircle.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://lucifercircle.livejournal.com/)**lucifercircle** for reminding me I needed to get onto this fast. Oh, and please excuse the lack of illustrations. I know they are a big part of any self respecting Just So Story, but I am simply not that good. Sorry.

*********

  
Way up in the North of the world, where it is white more than it is any other colour, Oh Best Beloved, there was a Mountie. He was a lone Mountie more than he was a working in a team Mountie, because he liked it best that way.

He was alone but he was never, ever lonely, for he had a great many books in his mind to keep him company. At night he would close his eyes and ‘member the books he had read and he thought he was happy. Books taught him many things and he fancied he knew everything and so nothing was new and nothing surprised him. Never, ever!

But imagine, Beloved, a life with no surprises, and you will see that he wasn’t really happy after all. But he thought he knew everything and he thought he was happy. He did indeed!

One thing he didn’t know was that there was a wolf who thought he knew everything, too. The wolf knew everything in the way that many small children do. He knew that his mother was not a wolf, but his father was and since he was a boy kind of puppy he must be a wolf like his father, because that was logic and because his mother told him every day that he would grow up to be a fine hunter just like his father.

His mother told him of humans and the strange food they hunted, which never, ever ran away and often tasted sweet and sticky and she taught him to suck in his tummy and make a sad face that she said would hypnotise humans into sharing their kill. He practiced until his mother laughed and said how handsome he was and his father growled and said that caribou didn’t fall down dead for a sucked in tummy and a sad face. Never, ever, ever.

One day when the Way Up North was not so very white, but still just a little bit white with all the other colours peeking carefully out between the white bits, the Mountie was walking. He was walking and he was ‘membering his books and he was thinking that he was happy.

What he wasn’t doing was looking where he was going. He was all his head and not and in his feet and he got a surprise! He never, ever thought he would, but he did. He did indeed! He fell down and he kept falling until he was down under the ground with all the colours peeking carefully out between the white bits. And he sat up and looked up in just in time to not see the great big clunky piece of wood that clunked him on his head.

And he did what all good Mounties do when they get clunked on the head with great big clunky pieces of wood. He made a groany noise and closed his eyes and went to sleep for a little while, because he was a good Mountie. He was indeed!

Then the wolf whose mother was not a wolf, but whose father was a wolf, came snuffling at the ground with all the colours that were peeking carefully out between the white and he smelled a smell that he’d never, ever smelled before. Then he heard a groany noise under the ground with all the colours peeking carefully out between the white and he snuffled some more until he found a hole.

He stood on a great big clunky piece of rock at the very edge of the hole and looked down. He looked down and saw the Mountie, who also happened to be a human. He did indeed!

The wolf whose mother was not a wolf, but whose father was a wolf snuffled the air in the hole and he smelled the human smell and the smell he’d never, ever smelled before and he thought it smelled sweet and sticky and he sat down and practiced sucking in his tummy and making his sad face to see if he could hypnotise the Mountie.

It didn’t work very well at all, because the Mountie didn’t share anything with him. So he thought and thought and he decided, Best Beloved that you can’t hypnotise anyone that isn’t looking at you. He knew this because he knew everything. So he jumped down the hole and landed on the Mountie and yelled in his loudest voice “Look at me, human!” Oh yes he did.

And the Mountie made a groany noise and woke up. So the wolf who knew everything looked at the Mountie who knew everything and he sucked in his tummy and made his sad face and the Mountie was surprised, but he still thought about his books and he ‘membered that wolves did not live underground and he picked the wolf up and tossed him into the air under the ground until the wolf was back on top of the ground and then he looked up just in time to not see the great big clunky piece of rock that clunked him on his head.

Now ‘member, O Best Beloved, that he was a good Mountie, so he made a groany noise and closed his eyes and went to sleep for a little while.

And the wolf whose mother was not a wolf, but whose father was a wolf sat on top of the ground with all the colours that were peeking carefully out between the white and he decided that humans could not be hypnotised under the ground. Never, ever, ever.

He ‘membered the sweet, sticky smell and thought he would have to get the Mountie on top of the ground and even though he never, ever read books his mother who was not a wolf had told him that humans could climb trees. So he found the biggest, clunkiest piece of tree he could drag, and he dragged it a very long way indeed and when the Mountie made a groany noise and woke up and sat up and looked up he dropped it down the hole just in time for the Mountie to not see it. The Mountie made a groany noise, because he was a good Mountie, and closed his eyes and went to sleep for a little while.

The wolf who knew everything decided that the Mountie was a stupid human who slept too much and he jumped back into the hole to wake him up and tell him so. He landed on the Mountie and yelled in his very loudest voice, “Look at me human!” and when that didn’t work he ‘membered how he woke his mother who was not a wolf up by licking her face and he tried that.

The Mountie made a groany noise and woke up and then he made another groany noise and moved himself from underneath the hole.

The wolf sucked in his tummy and made a sad face and told the Mountie that he shouldn’t sleep so much.  
The Mountie wiped the wolf spit off his face and told the wolf that he shouldn’t jump down into holes with Mounties when he looked like he needed to be hunting instead. The wolf sucked his tummy in even more and tried very hard to look even sadder and the Mountie sighed and thought about his books and ‘membered the caribou meat and chocolate in his pack.

He gave the wolf the caribou meat and he ate some of the chocolate and gave the rest to the wolf whose mother was not a wolf, but whose father was a wolf. The wolf decided that even if the Mountie didn’t know very much, he knew how to be hypnotised and decided he would stay with him.

The Mountie thought about his books and decided that even if they made him know many things they did not stop him from getting surprises. He picked up the wolf whose mother was not a wolf, but whose father was a wolf and tucked him into his pack and he picked up the big, clunky piece of tree, leaned it against the edge of the hole and climbed up it until they were both back on top of the ground with all the colours that were peeking carefully out between the white.

And that, O Best Beloved, is how the Mountie got his wolf.

 

**Advice From a Half Wolf.**

If you see a Mountie  
Deep under the ground  
Looking like he’s sleeping  
And making groany sounds

Throw him clunky bits of tree  
Until it makes him stir  
And he will feed you sticky treats  
That matt up all your fur.  



End file.
